


find my nest of salt, everything's my fault

by Like_A_Dove



Series: we could plant a house [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben's POV, F/M, a deep dive into the mind of Ben Solo aka YIKES, the Ben and Poe bromance I never intended to write but here we are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-28 00:59:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like_A_Dove/pseuds/Like_A_Dove
Summary: Drabbles and scenes from Ben's POV. Companion piece to "we could plant a house, we could build a tree".





	1. 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up what up! First, if you haven't read the first work in this series, "we could plant a house, we could build a tree"...you should probably do that. Or you'll be confused.
> 
> After many requests, I'm going to start posting scenes and drabbles from Ben's perspective. Pretty much all of these are missing scenes that never made it into the original story for whatever reason, or are specific conversations or events that happened when Rey was not present. I don't think I'll be rewriting any scenes that are featured in the first story, although if I get enough requests for a specific one I might reconsider.
> 
> Anyway. Onward!

He wants a brother.

Ben Solo is five years old. He follows his nanny around the grocery store, munching on animal crackers and watching the tiled floor solemnly.

He would be much happier, he thinks, and less lonely, if he had a brother.

**

At seven he thinks, hell. He’ll gladly take a sister.

**

At seventeen, he suspects he’s finally gotten what he wants, albeit in the oddest way.

The kid has her eyes pinned on his hand as he draws out his version of a balrog on a spare bit of paper. It’s Friday and he’s bored, mind too jumbled up to focus on any one thing—

“If it’s a fire demon, does it breathe fire?”

Ben feels his mouth quirk a little. Ha. A fire demon. But the kid isn’t ready for words like ‘Valaraukar’ and ‘Melko’, so Ben tucks some of the Tolkien mythology away until she’s old enough to get it.

“But it’s not a dragon.” Her little brow furrows in confusion.

“No.” And then he launches into an explanation of dragons and drakes and dragon riders and all the different fantasy elements surrounding them. He looks up from his moving hand briefly, half expecting her to be falling asleep. Instead she’s watching him raptly, as if she’s hanging off every word.

Ben didn’t know you could be this bored and yet this content with it at the same time. Perhaps this is what companionship is.

He sighs, fiddles with his pencil with one hand under the table. He sips from his coffee mug with the other, not minding that the coffee has long since gone cold. Rey eyes the mug curiously as he sets it back down.

“So,” he leans back in his chair and stretches out his overlong legs. “What are you up to tomorrow?”

She grabs his drawing and slides it across the table so that she can lean over it for proper inspection. “Maz is taking us on a field trip to the mall to visit Santa Claus.”

Ben tips his chair back on its hind legs, closes his eyes. God, he’s hungry. “Yeah? I guess that must be nice for the little kids who still believe in Santa.”

The kid is quiet.

His brain whirls, replays the words he’s just said and _freezes_. 

Rey probably _is_ one of the little kids who still believes in Santa.

Ben’s eyes pop open and go wide with horror. He rocks forward, chair landing harshly on its two front legs. His lips part, and he can feel his face start to grow hot. “Um. Not that there’s anything to, uh, to _not_ believe in. That is.”

Rey shrugs, not looking very upset. Instead, she seems resolved, as if something has just been confirmed to her. “No, I thought so.” She looks back down at his drawing. “Santa didn’t start leaving me presents until after I came to the home.” 

It takes a second, but when the meaning of her words sink in the rage is hot and instant.

Whoever Rey’s parents are, he _hates_ them.

Ben swallows thickly, and the pencil he’d been idly twirling in his left hand snaps from underneath the table.

_Deep breaths. Important to keep calm. Important to rein it in—_

“Ben?”

He opens his eyes (when had he closed them?) and she’s watching him intently. She is either unaware of his sudden flash of temper or is completely undisturbed by it. 

“Hmm?”

She turns and rummages around in her backpack. Her shirt is two sizes too big for her and the collar gapes at her neck. It makes him sad.

Rey pulls out a plastic baggy filled to the brim with Goldfish and she opens it and holds it out to him with a toothy grin. “Want some?”

He nods, and like that all the sudden anger is gone. As if it’d never been there. He holds out his hand, grumbles when she pretends to only give him a few crackers, smiles when she giggles and tips the bag, spilling half of the contents out onto the table.

She’s there for another hour and a half before being picked up by her caretaker.

He lets her keep the balrog drawing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked let me know?


	2. 1999

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen 'The Sixth Sense' I'm kinda about to spoil it. Just so you know. (No trust me if you ever plan on watching that movie you should go in unspoiled I'M JUST SAYIN'.)

“We don’t have to see this if you don’t want to.” 

Ben glances down at the kid as they walk through the parking lot. The setting August sun beats down on them from behind and the kid looks a little silly in her baggy Old Navy t-shirt. He wonders if she’s ever allowed to have new clothes.

She peers up at him with steely eyes. “I’m not _scared_ , if that’s what you’re asking.” She sniffs and crosses her arms over her chest, trying to look tough.

He presses his lips together to keep from laughing. Somehow he doesn’t think she’ll appreciate that. “Remember, if we get back and Luke asks where we’ve gone—”

“We went out for ice cream,” she supplies, looking up at him with a coy smile. She barely reaches his hip. Then she turns and gazes at the front of the movie theater as they approach it, looking wistful.

Has she never gone out to see a movie before? Christ, he hadn’t even thought of that. Ben sighs, already knowing his extra cash is going toward a massive popcorn and multiple candies for this kid.

His prediction is correct. Rey’s eyes nearly bug out of her head when they make their way to the concession stand after he purchases their tickets for ‘The Sixth Sense’. She begs him for a real bucket of popcorn and then watches, transfixed, as the concession stand worker layers butter into their snack.

It’s fucking depressing, but he forces himself to smile at her reassuringly whenever she glances up at him.

New goal: take the kid to see movies often. She deserves culture and fun, he thinks to himself. Plus, he suspects she’ll be a good movie-going buddy, which might be nice.

Ben Solo hasn’t gone out to see a movie with anyone besides himself in nearly two years.

**

“He was dead the whole time,” she breathes. They walk back to Ben’s car in different states of shock; it’s dark now and Ben is tense, on high alert. The kid is walking in front of him, chatting about the movie, and Ben moves up a little closer behind her, narrowing his eyes at a sketchy looking guy who is watching them casually from the inside of his parked car.

They make it to his car without incident, but Ben doesn’t relax until after he’s locked the doors and started up the engine. Maybe one day he’ll be able to walk around without feeling on edge about other people all the time. Maybe.

He peers over at Rey before they leave. “You know, that boy with the back of his head blown out and that lady with the slit wrists—you know that shit is fake, right? It’s just a movie?”

The kid scowls at him from the passenger’s seat. “I _know_ that, Ben. Of course it’s fake, dummy.”

“Brat,” he admonishes fondly, reversing out of the parking space and smiling a little.

**

He puts in Third Eye Blind’s self-titled album for the way home, skipping through some of the songs and showing the kid his favorites. That’s one thing he has to give her. She has better music taste then ninety percent of his graduating class. He takes a little pride in helping shape it.

She particularly likes the second song, and replays it over and over. By the third play through she starts singing along under her breath, pleased. She must not mind how sad the lyrics are.

It’s such a comfortable friendship with her; he forgets himself for a moment when he screams at another driver to suck his cock after they cut him off.

**

When they make it back to the studio Luke is sitting in the entryway waiting for them. His uncle holds up the hand written note Ben had left out for him in case he’d gotten off his conference call early. Which obviously he had.

“It took the two of you two hours to get ice cream?” He’s not mad, but Ben will need to act fast if—

“Ben took me to see a movie,” Rey says nonchalantly. “It was fun.”

Luke’s blue eyes narrow just a little. He looks right at Ben. “Which movie?”

Ben has not quite mastered the art of lying right to Luke’s face. Usually he’s just brutally honest and damn the consequences—

“The Iron Giant,” Rey lies swiftly. She sighs wistfully, convincingly. “It was really good.”

Ben nods quickly. “Yeah. Great animation.”

Luke looks back and forth between the two of them, assessing. Then he relaxes a little, sated. “Ah, well. That was nice of you, Ben. I won’t mention to Maz that you took her charge off my property without permission _again_. But please, try to act with some more forethought next time.” Luke’s eyes settle pointedly once more on Ben before looking away.

Ben nods, feeling a little cowed by his uncle as he and Rey make their way to the kitchen-office. Luke trusts him with Rey, then.

Ben is deep in thought, making a pot of coffee more out of habit then anything else, when he notices Rey frowning down at her clasped hands over by the table.

“What’s with you?” he asks, turning around and leaning back against the countertop.

She looks nervous and Ben finds himself taking half a step toward her in concern when she says, “G-Ghosts aren’t real though, right?”

He laughs and she throws a marker at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I’m so glad you guys are so enthusiastic about this! Thank you to everyone for commenting and showering this new little side piece with love ^.^
> 
> Not gonna lie, revisiting our babies at this age makes me really emotional?? And next chapter we’ll get the full backstory on Ben and Poe’s friendship!
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	3. 2000

He’s at Home Depot, minding his own business and buying a wall repair patch kit for Luke when—

“Ben Solo!”

Someone claps him on the shoulder and he turns, staring down his nose at none other than Poe Dameron.

He’s known Poe since he was five. Their mothers had worked on a campaign together, and one of Ben’s earliest memories is Leia dragging him over to the Dameron’s house and insisting that he was going to make a friend.

Instead he’d met Poe Dameron, a relentlessly cheerful individual who Ben had nearly nothing in common with. Both boys had been shoved into a playroom with nothing but a VCR copy of The Fox and the Hound. They’d both agreed to watch it and they both sobbed at the end. And then they both discovered that their favorite character from Sesame Street was Oscar the Grouch.

And that had been that, really. All it took was a grumpy puppet and the sharing of a traumatic experience (because The Fox and the Hound _was_ a traumatic experience, damnit) and somehow he and Dameron have been friends ever since.

Well, that and the incident in middle school—

“How have you been, Solo? I feel like I haven’t seen you since I graduated two years ago.” Poe is beaming up at him, completely unperturbed by how much Ben towers over him.

Ben blinks. “That’s because you haven’t seen me since you graduated two years ago.”

Poe’s smile doesn’t fade, just slides into a smirk, as if Ben has amused him somehow. “Well, lets remedy that. I’m having a get together tonight at my parents and you gotta come.”

Ben holds the wall patching kit a little closer to his chest. He technically _does_ have things to do; he promised Luke he’d have the hole patched up by tomorrow. But he finds himself sighing and shrugging. “Yeah, okay.”

Poe looks pleasantly surprised. “Really? Awesome! My boyfriend Marshall is bringing a keg.” Poe clicks his tongue and makes silly finger guns at Ben, who simply stares down at him blankly.

Poe laughs again, as if Ben and his awkwardness is something he’s deeply used to by now. “Anyway, I’ll see you at eight.” He moves to walk away, then pauses. “But you don’t _actually_ have to show up right at eight, typically the starting time of a party is more of a suggestion then—”

“I’ve been to a fucking party before, Dameron.”

Poe nods. “Right. Well, see you later, Solo.” He winks, then strides away, and Ben watches him leave with growing dread.

Then he sighs, begins walking toward the front registers. Really, this is good. He should be making more of an effort to hang around people who are his own age.

For god sake, his best friend is a nine-year-old.

**

Now, of course, Ben remembers why he doesn’t like parties.

It’s loud. He knows most everyone here but the only person he actually gives a shit about is Dameron. A very, _very_ intoxicated girl who he thinks is Dameron’s cousin but can’t be too certain is clinging onto his arm.

She had walked right up to him and asked how big his dick was.

Like, she had grabbed his hand, marveled at it’s size, and then just fucking asked how big his dick was.

Just like that.

And Ben tries to shake her off, has been trying to shake her off for the past half hour, to no avail. She won’t stop slurring. “I’d blowu so hardth at you’d shit—” She hiccups. “—you’d shit your pantss.”

Finally, _finally_ Ben is able to extricate himself from her grip. “No thanks.”

She reaches out for him again, but he darts away, barreling through the crowd and out the back door in order to get away from her.

No, not just her. _Everyone_. The sights, sounds, smells—

It’s too much and Ben thinks he’ll get dizzy if he goes back inside. To his supreme irritation, he leans against the back wall of the house and wishes for Monday already, when it’ll just be him and the kid at the studio.

The kid isn’t loud or stupid or clingy. 

“You okay?”

Ben turns his head and acknowledges Poe with a slight nod. “Just needed some fresh air.”

Dameron lets the back door close behind him, inhaling the crisp January air with a look of peace. “Sorry about my cousin. She, uh, has a bit of a crush on you.”

Ben scowls at him. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Poe lets out a derisive snort and then looks at Ben, eyes glassy and rimmed red. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never good.”

“Fuck off, Solo. Anyway, I’ve been thinking.” He gestures between the two of them. “We should move in together.”

Well, that…that’s a surprise. “What?”

“We should be roommates. I mean…” Poe shrugs, at ease. “We’re probably the only ones that can handle each other’s bullshit.”

Ben stares at him for a long moment. That is fairly accurate, actually. 

He almost says no. Almost, because his snap decision to come to this party earlier is the source for all his current stress. But his arguments with Luke are getting worse, and it would be nice to have a place to call his own.

He tilts his head in acquiesce. “Alright.”

Poe lights up. “This is going to be so much fun—” He corrects himself at the stricken expression on Ben’s face. “This is going to be such a great arrangement.”

**

On Monday Rey spends half their sketching class babbling on about something she and her friend Rose did over the weekend, and Ben listens intently. He feels calmer around her then he had all weekend.

The kid freezes mid-sentence, suddenly ecstatic about a sheet of sparkly stickers she’s found deep in the bowls of her beaten backpack. Her excitement over something so silly makes Ben smile.

He vows never to let her watch The Fox and the Hound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing everyone like this makes me so emo, considering what is currently happening in the main story. I’M A MESS OVER ALL THESE IDIOTS UGH.
> 
> I have [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_)!
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	4. 2001

Ben is no longer incredibly drunk. That was an hour ago. Now, Ben is simply normal-drunk, sobering into tipsy territory, even. 

Which is good. If he was still incredibly drunk it would make what he’s doing right now, attempting to order an All Star from this put out looking Waffle House waitress without slurring, much more difficult.

She scribbles down his order and then turns to Poe without a word.

Poe is not fairing nearly as well. He’s swaying a little in his seat. He orders two more waffles then he means to and a side of grits. And Ben knows for a fact that Poe _hates_ grits.

Then Marshall, Poe’s sober boyfriend who had driven them here, orders with perfect articulation. The waitress marches off, shouting their orders to the cook. Marshall looks bored and petulant. Ben despises him and has ever since he met him.

Poe hiccups and sips at his water happily. “I told you that house parties on this side of town are wild.”

Ben shrugs one shoulder and drinks from his own glass of water. He really needs to stop letting his roommate talk him into going to these types of things, but Ben hates being bored and is also a dreadful masochist.

Besides the alcohol had been free.

“Next time Ben can drive,” Marshall grumbles, flicking his eyes up to the ceiling in irritation. “Since he doesn’t give a shit about these types of things anyway.”

“Sorry, babe. Ben is more fun to get drunk with then you,” Poe says bluntly, slumping a little to the side of his seat. 

Marshall looks furious. Ben gives their relationship three more weeks. They probably won’t make it past New Years.

The waitress returns with their food, and Ben takes no more notice of the two men sitting across from him as he dives into his meal.

Delicious but terrible food when one is drunk at 2am is a godsend, and Ben dwells on this fact as he shoves the first forkful into his mouth.

Ten minutes later and Poe is lamenting over how much he hates grits as he eats them. Ben watches his roommate chew in disgust with bleary eyed amusement.

Poe swallows, points an unsteady finger at Ben. “Got any plans Monday night? I might need a ride to the airport.”

Ben shakes his head. “I have class at the studio on Monday nights.”

Poe rolls his brown eyes. “Skip it.”

“No.”

“Come on, Ben, I—”

“No.”

Poe blinks at him, and then a dopey smile spreads across his face. “Aw, it’s because of Rey.”

“I always see her on Mondays. If I miss on short notice she won’t understand.”

“She’s so precious.” Poe spoons more grits into his mouth without thinking.

Ben almost laughs a little. Because Rey had been in a foul mood on Friday. Had tried to savagely kick Ben underneath the table when he’d teased her over her crush on Poe.

Not so precious then.

Poe drunkenly gulps down half his water before finally having the sense to push his bowl of grits to the other side of the table. He turns his focus to his three waffles. “You know,” he states, beginning to smear butter and syrup over them, “fifty bucks says she hits puberty and develops a massive crush on you.”

“That won’t happen.”

Poe snorts. “Seriously? You think she’ll turn sixteen and _not_ fall for her strapping, broody, older, _male_ best friend?”

“Don’t be disgusting.”

Poe is laughing at him now, launching into a ramble. “She puts up with you remarkably well. I mean, if she hits her twenties and you guys are still friends? I’m just saying.” He holds up his hands placatingly, not really taking in the darkening expression on Ben’s face. “This is hypothetical—”

Poe keeps talking because Poe doesn’t really _know_. Doesn’t really get it. Doesn’t understand that this particular subject makes Ben curl his hands into fists. Makes his breathing increase, makes him _enraged_. He knows his friendship with Rey is unorthodox, but the idea that people can look at him and Rey and taint what they are, as if he could ever think of her in that way. Rey, the family he’s gladly chosen for himself and vice versa. Rey, who understands him on a level none of his blood relations ever will.

“She’s my kid sister.” Ben’s voice is low, laced with a threat. Marshall shrinks back, clearly alarmed and intimidated by Ben’s sudden shift in mood. 

Poe, however, grapples with Ben’s intensity. Tosses it over his shoulder and lets it roll down his back. “I’m not disputing that.” His mouth is half full. “I’m just making a prediction.”

“You can take your prediction and shove it up your ass.”

Ben speaks so loudly that the tables around them quiet, other patrons tilting their heads in order to get a good look at him. But he doesn’t glance away from Poe to glare at them.

And Poe. He smiles a little. “Well, let me finish my waffles first.”

Poe’s calm defuses the situation slightly. But only slightly.

Ben, needing to glower at _someone_ , spends the rest of the meal scowling at Marshall, who looks like he’s ten seconds away from pissing his pants.

Good.

**

They pay and leave about ten minutes later, Poe a bit soberer and Ben grumpy but finally relaxed.

Poe belches loudly and pats his stomach. “That, gentleman, was delicious.” He leans into his boyfriend a bit and shakes his head. “And _you_ wanted to go to fucking IHOP.”

Marshall is still shooting Ben wary looks. “That’s because IHOP is better—”

Poe’s vaguely drunken protests start immediately. Ben reassess his earlier assessment. He only gives their relationship another week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I have been sitting on this scene for months. It was the first Ben POV scene I ever envisioned. Was fun to finally get it out of my head! Also, if you leave in an area that doesn’t have Waffle House and have therefore never experienced it drunk at 2am, my deepest, deepest condolences.
> 
> Poe called it before anyone else! Y’all have been giving him shit for ages but he was the OG Reylo shipper in this fic! PUT SOME RESPECK ON HIS NAME.
> 
> I have [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_)!
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	5. 2002

It all happened because Ben got distracted.

He’d woken up in a foul mood. He’d eaten breakfast in a foul mood. He’d worked out in a foul mood. He’d skipped lunch in a foul mood. 

And since he’s supposed to be taking Rey trick-or-treating tonight he can’t exactly _stay_ in a foul mood.

He’s bent over he and Poe’s shared kitchen table, the tips of his fingers black from the past few hours he’s spent sketching out the weirdest shit he can think of. Men wearing animal skulls for masks. That fucking bunny from Donnie Darko. Zombies.

Dumb things. But it makes him feel better, scowling down at paper for hours and channeling all of his negative thoughts into something else.

The sun is beginning to set when he finally glances at the kitchen clock and jolts. He should have left ten minutes ago to pick up Rey and he’s _starving._

Ben stands quickly and walks to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and not noticing the slab of green butter like he _really_ should have.

And then he spots them, a plate of brownies covered in plastic wrap on the countertop. Poe has been known to bake sometimes. In fact, desserts are probably the one food he doesn’t disintegrate when he attempts to cook.

Ben has gulped down two by the time he reaches his car.

**

Something is wrong.

Ben parks in front of the home and blinks stupidly at his steering wheel. _Something is insanely fucking wrong what the hell is—_

It clicks in his brain, what’s going on, the moment that the front door opens and Rey comes sprinting outside toward Ben’s car. 

He’s going to absolutely murder Poe. Slowly. 

The passenger door opens and Rey slides into the car, looking thoroughly excited and with fake blood covering her chin. “Happy Halloween!” she exclaims with a burst of childlike excitement. It almost makes Ben wish he’d had more chances to go trick-or-treating when he was a kid.

Candy. Yes, candy.

His brain feels like a slug.

“What are you supposed to be?” he manages to ask, turning toward Rey.

She opens her mouth to show him two obviously fake fangs situated on her canines before holding her hands up to her face and wiggling her fingers. “I vant to suck your blood.”

He genuinely smiles. “Ha.”

Rey bounces on her seat in anticipation. There’s a worn pillow case in her lap that she’ll use to collect candy. “Are we still going to that ritzy neighborhood in Buckhead?”

And Ben nearly groans because, as he looks outside of the car at the world around them he knows there’s no way he’s going to be able to drive. Everything is slightly hazy and his body… His body is heavy. So is his tongue. He could sleep. Or eat. Or watch cartoons with Rey. In fact if he could accomplish all three right now, at the same time, he absolutely would.

Ben Solo cannot remember the last time he’s been this high.

“Actually, kid, change of plans.”

Rey schools her face into a neutral expression, but Ben still catches the flash of initial disappointment. He briefly feels ill with himself, at the fact that he’s letting her down, but he won’t risk Rey’s safety for anything.

“We’re going to walk to the neighborhood down the road.” He clears his throat and removes the keys from the ignition, glancing at Rey. He expects more discontent. Instead he’s met with slightly narrowed eyes and a curious tilt to her eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” Rey’s voice is sly. “Your eyes are red.”

“I’m fine, kid. Come on, before it gets too late.”

**

He doesn’t walk up to each house with her, instead lingering by the street at the end of each driveway.

Being baked and walking around trick-or-treating on Halloween is an experience. He’s never seen so many Spidermans in his life and Rey has already give him four Reese’s Cups and Jesus Christ she really is the best little sister and he has no idea what he’d do if anything happened to her and he’s really…really going to _kill_ Poe.

They’ve made their way down several rows of houses before he notices how much Rey is currently scrutinizing him.

Finally, she says, “You’re acting really weird.”

Ben swallows. “Isn’t that appropriate for Halloween?” He holds his hand out and she wordlessly places another piece of candy into his open palm.

He frowns. A fucking Almond Joy? Gross.

Ben eats it anyway.

It’s like that’s all the confirmation Rey needs. She grins like the cat who has caught the canary. “You smoked pot!”

“Rey!” Ben places his hand on her upper arm and pulls her a little closer instinctively. He glances over his shoulder, paranoia soaring through him. Surely someone heard, surely someone is about to march over right now and confront him—

Rey blinks down at his hand. Ben is still looking around, therefore missing the slight flush that creeps across her cheeks. After a moment she takes a tiny step back and Ben releases her. She starts ticking things off on one hand. “Your eyes are red, you’re acting _super_ strange, and you just ate an Almond Joy.”

Ben runs a hand down his face. He could die. He could absolutely die. “It was an accident,” he admits, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Rey’s eyebrows shoot up and her mouth parts in awe. “You ate a pot brownie?”

For a moment this jerks him out of his weed-infused stupor. “You know about…” He trails off at the look she gives him, as if he’s the stupidest person she’s ever laid eyes on.

Her certainly feels that way, right about now. 

“I’m sorry, Rey. I didn’t know the brownies were special when I ate them. Poe does shit like this sometimes.” He narrows his eyes at her. “Don’t be like Poe.” Ben sighs. “I know we were supposed to go the nice neighborhood but—”

Rey cuts him off with a shrug. “I don’t really care about that.” She presses her lips together, and at first Ben thinks she’s trying to hide a frown but then she giggles.   
“You’re entertaining when you’re like this, you know. Some of the stuff you’re saying reminds me of Patrick from SpongeBob.”

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Ben says. He holds out his hand again and she faithfully gives him another peanut butter cup.

**

He’s still too fucked up to drive by the time they make it back to the home. Rey stares at the front door forlornly before looking back in Ben’s direction. “Can I hang out with you in your car for a while?”

Ben nods and jerks his head, gesturing for her to climb into the car behind him.

He puts on Soundgarden and lectures her on why Twizzlers are always better then Red Vines, on the trailer for the Two Towers he’d seen recently, on some of the things he had drawn earlier.

She laughs at him a lot. Which is okay. He doesn’t mind. Rey can laugh at his expense over and over and he’d take it gladly. Anything to keep from having to disappoint her again.

She leaves when it starts to get too late. By that time he’s sobered up enough to feel comfortable driving home. Rey closes the car door, clutching her nearly empty pillow case candy bag, and waves goodbye at him through the passenger window. She flashes those silly fake fangs once more before trotting up the driveway to the home.

When Ben gets back to his apartment he notices that Rey has left the last three Reese’s Cups in the passenger’s seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a lighthearted chapter because next chapter Ben is in jail lol.
> 
> I know it's been awhile and for that I apologize. I find writing Ben's POV for "plant a house" to be very emotionally draining. Ben will obviously be going to very dark places in this fic, which means that _I_ have to go to very dark places too. So in order to preserve my own sanity I'm going to pace myself with this fic and visit it when I feel like I'm in healthy mental states. You guys are all awesome folks, so I'm sure you guys can understand why updates are going to be slow. Thank you all so much for your loyalty and kind words, it means so much.  <3
> 
> I have [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_).
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	6. 2003

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: This chapter is short but darker in nature. Mentions of suicide attempt as well as some disturbing imagery.**

Ben learns two weeks into his jail sentence that if he does not exert some type of control over his daily routine then he will absolutely go insane.

So a typical day in jail goes somewhat like this.

Ben Solo wakes up in a cell he shares will two other guys. One is Hux, a redheaded prick who sleeps in the bunk on top of his, and a short, twitchy guy who doesn’t talk much. Which is perfectly fine with Ben. It’s not like he’s in county jail to make friends.

He gets out of bed, stretches his body in order to get his blood flowing, then uses the small amount of floor space between bunks in order to work out. First, he’ll do pushups (literally thousands at a time now, if he really wants to), then does sit ups or crunches or jumping jacks or burpees or mountain climbers or literally any exercise he can think of in order to make the time go by a little faster.

When he’s done he slumps down at the edge of his bunk as Hux clamors down and does his own version of “working out”. 

(Ben had tried to help him, in the earlier months. Tried to show him up to do a proper pull-up, tried to explain that if Hux did squats like that it would strain his back, but was always given a snide comment as thanks. Ben had soon shut his mouth, instead focusing on the fact that his scrawny cellmate remains scrawny while Ben’s muscle tone and definition is the best it’s ever been.)

After breakfast they use the public shower. During this time most of the men determinedly focus on cleaning his own body, eyes forward, only asking to borrow soap its really needed. Then Ben is back to his cell for afternoon leisure time, which Ben usually spends reading.

He has read one hundred and eight novels since his sentence started. And that is in thanks, to his chagrin, to his mother. Leia funnels book donations and supplies into the jail like it’s her damn job.

(Maybe one day he’ll remember to thank her for this, for using her reach and managing to take care of him like this. But today all he can concentrate on is reminding himself that jail life is not forever. That every day he is closer and closer to release.)

Not that he regrets the reason why he is here, of course.

Only Hux knows his crime. Ben still isn’t quite sure what possessed him to tell his cellmate about it. He thinks it has something to do with the fact that one day, five months into his sentence, another inmate had attempted suicide in the community room. Unsuccessfully, in the end, but there’s something about witnessing a young man wailing and trying to slit his wrists with plastic butter knife that’ll shake you a bit.

He and Hux had conversed long into the night about random things like high school, television, religion. And then they discussed what they were in for. They never really talked about their respective families, or deep shit like what they ultimately wanted out of life. Which was perfectly fine with Ben. The more he got to know Hux the more he understood what a total asshole he was.

Which is why today, when Hux complains about how loudly Ben is chewing his peanut butter sandwich, Ben doesn’t even bat an eyelash.

After lunch and most of the afternoon spent in their cell, they’re allowed to hang out in the community room.

This is Ben’s second favorite part of the day. There’s a circular table in the back of the room that he always takes residence at, pulling out his scrap paper and black pen. This is a good black pen too, with better quality ink. And then he starts sketching.

The guards don’t give him any trouble. His mother had been responsible for their raises. And the other inmates rarely hassle him. Most of them are only here for a few days and they give him a wide berth, just wanting to keep their heads down and not get into any more trouble. 

The inmates who have longer sentences, like Hux, can be irritating, however. They ask questions about his sketches. Asks who they’re of, asks if he’ll sketch them, asks if they can have his pen. So sometimes, in order to deal with his anger, he’ll draw two sketches for the day instead of one.

The first sketch is always for the kid. Sometimes it’s of characters that he’s created in his head. Characters who always seem to come to life a little on his pathetic scrap paper, and he’s pleased that the person he gets to share bits of himself with is Rey. But sometimes there will be a new inmate who will prove even more interesting then the characters Ben can create in his head. Like Hutt, the fattest man that Ben has ever seen.

The second sketch is more violent. Like today’s. Hux has taken his pen from him and is using it to write a letter to his father. He’d done it purely to annoy, to enrage, and there is nothing that Ben can do about it. Reacting violently means more time wasting away in this sample of hell. So Ben copes with his fury the only way he readily knows how. He sketches stabbing Hux in the eye with the pen he had stolen. It’s actually, if he may say so himself, some of his best line work. Like Junki Ito’s _Uzumaki_. In fact, it makes Ben wonder if there’s a horror graphic novelist somewhere inside him.

Ben never keeps these rare second sketches. But today he makes an exception.

After their time spent in the community room they’re fed dinner. Night after night the slop they’re given continues to be the worst thing he’s ever put in his mouth. He was told before coming here that he’d receive 1,800 calories a day. But he doubts that.

After dinner it’s back to their cells. Usually Ben and his cellmates spend this quiet time before bed completely ignoring each other’s existence. A necessary feat for survival, given that they all have to shit in front of each other.

Tonight, however, Ben tucks his second sketch between the edge of Hux’s pillow and his pathetic slab of a mattress. Later, the redhead will find it and subsequently never steal one of Ben’s pens again.

Then Ben climbs into his bunk and settles in for the evening.

This is Ben’s favorite part of the day. This is the part of the day when he reaches into his pillow case and pulls out the stack of letters that the kid has written to him. Some of the letters feature silly little comics that she’s done, like her riding her bike or of BB-8 stealing a slice of pizza. It is the one flash of normalcy that he has in his entire day. 

It is the one flash of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did find it very interesting to read articles and blog posts about a typical day in jail. Now, I can’t say I’ve been to jail (and don’t plan to), so I can’t say if Ben’s experience is 100% accurate but that is the beauty of fanfiction. This is just a fun sandbox!
> 
> Anyway, I so appreciate the lovely response after posting the last chapter. It warmed my heart to see how many of you are still excited about this story and this little universe. You guys are seriously the best <3
> 
> I have [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_).
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	7. 2004

The first time Ben had ever read about Anakin Vader was in a book on serial killers he’d checked out from his middle school library. He’d been thirteen.

Ben never really mentioned his interest in true crime to others; it only made people think he was weirder then he already was. But nonetheless, he gobbled up episodes of _America’s Most Wanted_ and _Unsolved Mysteries_ religiously.

He’d always thought that, maybe, if being an artist didn’t work out for him, that perhaps he’d be a decent homicide detective. Put his gruesome curiosities to work. 

He’d been sitting in the office at this parent’s house, Threepio the bird making odd chirping noises in the background. The smaller room seemed cozier then the rest of the too-spacious home, and Ben found comfort in the office’s cramped bookshelves and soft sunlight coming in from the window. There, in a well-loved leather armchair, he thumbed through the book with deep fascination, reading up on Jeffrey Dahmer, John Wayne Gacy, and Edmund Kemper. 

But he lingered on the chapter dedicated to Anakin Vader. Ben wasn’t sure why. The acts depicted in the book were all horrible, were all truly evil, but Vader’s picture stood out to Ben. Made him feel uneasy, smaller, somehow. Vader sneered up at him from his mugshot photo, and even though the picture was in black and white Ben could have sworn that the terrorist’s eyes were tinged red.

“What are you reading?”

He’d been so absorbed in his book he hadn’t heard his mother enter the room.

Ben had handed it to her immediately and with no shame. Leia was as addicted to true crime as he was. 

But this time his mother’s eyes widened with horror, and she slammed the book closed and refused to return it to Ben. It was odd for him to be reading a book like this, she had said. An inappropriate thing to be interested in.

Perhaps that was when the first seeds of discourse between Ben and his parents had been sewn.

He’d put that one boy in a hospital three months later.

**

Ben is tired and a little grouchy when he arrives at the studio early Friday evening. It’s the first week of November and the air is just beginning to bite.

He’s rubbing his hands together a bit as he steps inside, smiling because he can hear Rey singing to herself loudly in the kitchen-office. She must have heard the jingle of the front door opening and closing, however, because she stops singing sharply and the music lowers in volume.

Ben doesn’t mention anything as he strides into the room, pulling his jacket off his body and draping it nonchalantly over the back of a chair.

Rey’s stuff is already strewn all over the table: markers, sketchbooks, and open binders all taking up any extra space that would allow him to get any type of work done. She’s also commandeering two of the three chairs: sitting up in one and with her legs stretched across another.

Ben feels his smile widen just a tiny amount. Seeing this every Friday is a pleasant consistency. One of the few pleasant consistencies in his life, actually.  
He turns to the coffee maker.

“I already brewed a pot,” Rey chirps from where she’s sitting, still engrossed in the textbook she has balanced in her lap. Starting to fiddle with the coffee, Ben misses the way she watches him a cheerful sort of nervousness, teeth working at the tip of her pen.

He makes a nonchalant noise from the back of his throat, setting about grabbing a large mug from the cabinet and pouring himself a lukewarm cup of joe. He slurps it down regardless, black and with no sugar. He doesn’t miss Rey’s grimace of disgust. She’ll only pour herself half a cup of black coffee before filling the rest of the mug with milk.

But he’s already spent months mocking her for this, so his knowing smirk gets his amusement across instantly. Rey huffs and sits up, pulling her legs away from the second chair and setting them down on the floor in front of her.

“How was your day at work?” she asks, eyes trailing him as he pulls up a chair and sits down at the table across from where she’s seated.

At this Ben gives a half shrug, trying not to let his frustration leak into his expression. Being an artist doesn’t always provide consistent work, much less a consistent salary. He’s staying afloat for the time being, but he’s not sure how long he can stand to have unreliable finances like this.

He flicks his eyes over all of Rey’s things scattered about the table, takes in her worn sketchbooks and the colored pencils that she’ll use down to the nub before replacing. Rey shuts her textbook and Ben takes note of her long-sleeved shirt, which fits her well but the maroon color has faded, as if it’s been washed and worn many times. Ben has never seen Rey wear anything new.

Yes, it would be nice to have reliable finances. Not just for himself but for—

Rey has one sketchbook laying over another, covering up half of a drawing. It’s the visible half that suddenly catches his attention.

He reaches for it and drags it out from under the other sketchbook, sliding it across the table until it’s right in front of him.

“Is this…” Ben shifts the sketch and tilts his head, gazing at it from a different angle. “Is this Anakin Vader?”

Rey adjusts her posture and grimaces. “Yeah.”

Ben unfolds the sketchbook, opening it up and flipping over to the next page. It’s another drawing of Vader, this time his famous mugshot replicated by Rey’s hand in painstaking detail. Ben takes a moment to be thoroughly impressed by Rey’s talent before feeling the same unsettling smallness he always feels when he sees pictures of Vader.

“I had to do that report on him, remember?” Rey must have interpreted his silence as judgement. She reaches over and tries to pry the notebook away from Ben’s intense gaze.

He frowns and picks up the notebook, shifting so that he’s sitting perpendicular to the table. “Of course I remember, that was last week.” He holds the sketch up closer to his face, concentrating. “This is really good, by the way.” He says the compliment almost as an afterthought, as if some subconscious part of him is always attuned to Rey and has picked up on her unease.

Ben remembers, unbidden, the way his mother had grabbed that book on serial killers out of his hands when he’d been thirteen and still a kid, the look on her face when she’d made it clear she had no intention of letting him continue to read it.

Frown deepening, he finally looks away from the drawing and to Rey, who is studying him with furrowed eyebrows. He raises the drawing up a little. “Do you find this sort of stuff interesting?”

She blinks at him, obviously finding his question to be out of the blue. “Um. I guess?” She fiddles with the pen in her hand briefly before continuing. “I mean, Vader was all I read about for like, two weeks. I kinda couldn’t help but draw him.” She flushes. “You know, he was actually handsome in his wedding photos.”

Ben glances back down at the sketchbook in his hand. “I haven’t seen any of his wedding photos.”

“Turn the page.”

He does. And sure enough it’s a sketch, with twice the amount of detail and effort as the others, of Anakin Vader on his wedding day. His face is unmarred and he is grinning and it’s hard to believe that one day this man will perform such unspeakable acts. Rey has drawn Vader’s wife into the picture as well. She is ethereal, smiling softly for the camera.

“They say his wife dying in childbirth was what drove him to becoming a criminal, but he’d already committed his first murder before her death,” Rey states matter-of-factly, watching as Ben finally shuts the sketchbook and sets it back down on top of the table.

“You don’t think I’m creepy for finding that sort of thing interesting?” Her tone is worried.

Ben hates the fact that she thinks he could ever find her creepy, in any capacity. “No, kid, I don’t.”

Rey looks intensely relieved. “Okay, because I have to admit that sometimes I like to watch _Forensic Files_ but Rose says it gives her nightmares so…” She spreads her hands and shrugs, then reaches into her backpack and pulls out a few pieces of paper. “I got my grade on my Vader report back from my history teacher.”

Ben finishes what’s left of his coffee and raises an expectant eyebrow. “And?” He leans forward, trying not to let on to how invested he actually is in Rey’s grade. Granted, it’s her report but damnit, that had taken up hours of his free time.

She bites at her lower lip and slowly slides the paper over to his side of the table.

He spies the circled ‘C-‘ in bright red and is instantly furious.

Ben kicks at the leg of the table, shoving it forward a solid foot. “How the _fuck_ is your ignorant shit of a teacher going to give you just a passable grade on that paper?! It deserved at the _very least_ a ‘B’, and frankly not to brag but I would have given it an ‘A’. Your sentence structure and overall ideas are already way beyond the average intelligence of the other plebian ninth graders you—”

Rey is laughing at him.

“What?” he growls.

“I didn’t get a ‘C- ‘on my Vader paper.” She nods to the assignment sitting on front of him. “That’s my English paper on _Macbeth_ that I forgot about until the morning it was due.” She flips open a binder and shuffles through more papers until she’s holding up one with an ‘A’ in the corner. “See, your hard work didn’t go unrecognized.”

“You’re a goddamn brat.”

Rey beams at him, smile so wide her eyes squint a little. It’s hopelessly endearing.

Then she presses her lips together in obvious mirth and pulls out another textbook from her backpack. “Anyway, my grade in English isn’t so great. Want to help me study?”

The stare at each other across the table for a solid minute. It isn’t lost on Ben how quickly he’d gone from being furious on her behalf back to being relaxed and at home in her presence.

He beckons helplessly for the textbook. “What do you need help with?”

Rey’s answering sunny expression makes the next few hours Ben spends doing a high schooler’s homework worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always pegged Ben as a true crime nerd but never found a relevant moment to talk about it over in the main story. This is the last “light hearted” chapter we’ll have for a while, I expect.
> 
> Thank you once again to everyone who is still rooting for this story! I deeply apologize for the long wait between updates, but knowing that you guys are still here cheering this fic on is so encouraging! You are all seriously so amazing.
> 
> We’re only two chapters away from the big Poe and Ben talk that occurs right after chapter 31 of the main story AKA the entire reason this Ben POV fic exists. Get hyped fam.
> 
> I have [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_).
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	8. 2005

_You’re not my brother, Ben._

He wakes up feeling ill. He groans, rolling over in his bed and squeezing his eyes tightly closed, as if he can shut out the early morning rays of sun.

That fight with Rey happened months ago and he’s still having nightmares about it.

Of course, he and Rey have yet to discuss the implications of that conversation, but Ben thinks that’s maybe for the best. He’s not sure how to broach that topic and he’s fairly certain she said it in the heat of the moment anyway.

Still, it had been devastating. He’d obsessed over her choice of words for weeks, ensuing panic and anxiety crawling up his spine at the idea that Rey did not value their friendship the same way that Ben did. But no, he eventually reassured himself. Rey is probably the only person, aside from Poe, who he can depend on to be a true friend. She might not value him as a sibling, but she definitely cared about him. 

If she didn’t ever consider him family…he’d learn to handle that sort of pain. That is a blow he can shoulder. And of course, Rey is too smart to ever have a _crush_ on him or something equally nonsensical.

But the nightmares still get him, sometimes.

He trembles as the last vestiges of the dream finally slip away, wiping at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

And then a large, fluffy creature creeps into his room and leaps up onto his bed.

“Your dad at work?” Ben grumbles, reaching up and stroking down BB-8’s neck and spine. The cat purrs and arches happily, yellow eyes pleased, before creeping forward until he’s laying directly on Ben’s sternum, head nearly bumping his chin.

Ben sighs, the small, comforting weight of the cat making him feel sleepy again. It’s still fairly early; he can go back to bed for a couple of hours before starting the day. 

He presses his head back into his pillow and nods off to the soothing rumbling coming from the cat perched on top of him. He doesn’t dream for the rest of the morning.

**

Ben glares at the back of the head of the woman in front of him. She’s holding up the grocery check-out line he’s waiting in, arguing with the poor cashier girl over fucking _coupons_.

The cashier, someone who looks vaguely familiar but Ben can’t quite place, is blinking at the customer blearily, as if she can’t believe that this is her life. “Mam, that coupon expired two weeks ago. I can’t honor it.”

This is the third time she’s had to explain this to the woman and Ben is about to lose his goddamn mind. It’s the day before Thanksgiving and he’s just trying to buy steaks for Rey, Poe, and himself for tomorrow and he’s been stuck behind this _fucking lady_ for nearly _five minutes_ while she _bitches_.

He’s going to lose it.

“But,” the woman begins once again and Ben’s hands curl into fists, “could you just call your manager for me? I'm sure they'll let me use the coupon.”

The cashier closes her eyes and visibly takes in a deep, slow breath. She straightens her shoulders, and when her eyes pop back open she looks deader inside then she did before. “Mam—”

“Go on,” the lady interrupts rudely. “Call your manager. I’m happy to wait.”

And that’s when Ben feels the last tiny shred of his patience slip away into the ether.

“I will buy literally all of your shit for you if you will just _leave_ ,” he snaps out, making a small step forward and glaring down at the woman. Out of his peripheral vision he notices the eyes of the cashier widen in shock.

Not quite as shocked as the woman, however. She clutches at the cross necklace around her neck. “Excuse me?”

“No, excuse _you_ for holding up this entire line for nearly five full fucking minutes so you can argue over a coupon for a bottle of goddamn Sauve shampoo. Jesus Christ are you fucking kidding me? Did you ever think that the people waiting behind you might have somewhere to fucking be? Once again, I’ll cover your whole order if it means you finally _leave_ …”

He delivers the last few words to the woman’s retreating form and he trails off, glaring at her back. She’s pushing her cart over to the CUSTOMER SERVICE desk with her head held high. She’ll probably raise a fit until one of the poor managers breaks and gives her something for free. Fucking bitch. 

Still frowning, Ben steps up in front of the cashier and puts his steaks on the conveyor belt, the customers waiting behind him chuckling and sending him appreciative nods and smiles.

The cashier, who still looks familiar, is trying very hard not to laugh. “Uh, thank you?”

Ben shrugs, fishing his wallet out of his pocket and pulling out cash. “She was being a cunt.”

But the cashier seems more preoccupied in him then the previous customer. “You’re Ben Solo, correct?”

Ben stills, hand frozen in the act of pulling out his cash. Ever since the incident involving Anakin Vader had happened several months ago he’s been approached by multiple people who recognized him from the news. Some of them had been reporters hoping to score an interview with the grandson of one of the most famous terrorists of all time.

It has been deeply, deeply annoying. And after nearly pummeling a guy who’d practically bawled Rey over in order to get to Ben at a restaurant last month, he’s had to be extra careful with his temper.

He looks at the cashier warily. “Yes.” He hands her his payment without blinking.

She nods, pleased that she’s correct. “I thought so. I’m Baz, remember me? We went to high school together?”

That is not at all what Ben had been expecting her to say. And now he knows why she’d looked familiar earlier. He’d shared plenty of classes with her throughout the years, although they’d never been anything more than passing acquaintances.

He hasn’t spared her a thought since he graduated, to be honest.

“Right.” He gives her a small and slightly strained smile. “I thought you looked familiar.”

He doesn’t think he’d sounded excited at all with his answer, but Baz’s face lights up at it all the same. She bites her bottom lip as she rips his receipt from the printer. Her eyes rake over him quickly and oh, Ben knows _that_ particular look.

He’s been around the block enough to recognize _want_ in someone else’s gaze.

Ben holds his hand out and waits for his receipt expectantly, but raises an eyebrow when Baz grabs a pen and scrawls something on the back of it. She winks at him when she gives it to him. “If you’re bored later.”

He blinks because wow, takes his receipt and steaks, and leaves the store after giving Baz a smile. He muses on his walk back to his car that she’d been cute, but Ben isn’t looking for a relationship right now. Or a new fuck buddy, if he’s being honest with himself. 

He throws the receipt away when he gets back home.

**

Rey is watching him prepare and cook their steaks with rapt attention.

It’s Thanksgiving and she’s come over to his apartment in a sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. Ben finds this rather endearing, as he’s dressed in practically the same thing, but Poe is currently expressing his frustration with both of their outfit choices.

“I look great for you guys and this is the thanks I get?” Poe does look pretty sharp, Ben will admit. But it doesn’t count.

“You’re going over to your family’s after this.” Ben turns over his steak and casts his roommate a pointed look over his shoulder.

Poe is grinning. “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you two have to look like slobs.”

“I’m comfortable,” Rey says with a sniff, leaning her hip against the countertop. Is it just Ben or has she inched just a little closer to him since he put his steak in the frying pan?

Hmm.

She and Poe start verbally sparring and Ben leans into the familiar rhythm of listening to them talk and working on something with his hands at the same time. It might be one of his favorite soundtracks.

He’s making their plates, he and Rey edging around each other in the cramped kitchen as she grabs silverware and napkins. He’s reaching over and above her to grab something off a higher shelf and when he pulls away Rey is—

Rey is eyeing him—

Rey is eyeing him with—

Rey is eyeing him with _want_.

His brain retains this new, abrupt information and, without missing a beat, Ben gathers his and Rey’s full Thanksgiving plates into his hands and takes them over to the tiny dining table.

Then he excuses himself to the bathroom and spends the next thirty seconds talking himself out of a full-blown panic attack. Frankly, if Rey wasn’t right there in the next fucking room—

_You’re not my brother, Ben._

No.

No no no no The Kid is too smart for this, supposed to be too smart for this, and _fuck_ what if she’s misinterpreted anything he’s said or done to mean that he reciprocates because _shit fucking shit_ he can’t imagine having to hurt her in that way he just _can’t_ —

Ben splashes cold water on his face and forces himself to continue taking deep, calming breaths. It’s Thanksfuckinggiving and he is absolutely _not_ going to have an emotional breakdown in front of Rey. He cannot do that to her.

He starts to feel less dizzy and his mind, desperate and hurting, begins to feed him some scraps of rational thought. It’s just a crush. She’s only fifteen. She’ll get over it. She’s Rey. He’s Ben. It’ll be fine.

Yeah. It’ll be fine. He’ll have to watch what he says and does around her a little more closely so that she doesn’t get the wrong idea but—It’ll be fine. This will pass. It’s not like anything will happen.

At this fleeting, absurd thought, Ben actually snorts aloud in the bathroom. It seems to jolt him back to reality and, taking one last deep breath, he clears his throat and steps back out into the living room.

“Are you okay?” All trace of the desire from earlier is gone from Rey’s gaze; her eyes only hold concern now.

Ben nods, giving her a smile and sitting down in the chair next to her.

Poe is giving him a funny look from across the table and Ben knows he’ll have some explaining to do once Rey is gone. But in the meantime, he’s going to enjoy his Thanksgiving meal with the two most important people in his life.

All the while pretending that absolutely nothing happened and that there’s absolutely nothing wrong.

It’ll be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always kinda figured that Ben was pretty aware of Rey’s crush and watched himself like a hawk when they were hanging out so that he wouldn’t give her the wrong idea. Obviously, things begin to change, however, in the next couple of years. Next chapter is the reason why this fic exists! The scene between Poe and Ben after the end of chapter 31 in the main fic is next chapter! 
> 
> Once again thank you all so much for reading and being so patient with my slow updates! My real life is hectic and I don’t have the spare time to write like I used to, but hearing from you guys honestly puts the biggest smile on my face. I love seeing what y’all have to say.
> 
> I have [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_)!
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	9. 2006

He’s a goddamned piece of shit.

It’s the first thing Ben Solo thinks when he wakes up, stiff and with a dry throat. It was also, undoubtably, the last thing he thought before he nodded off.  


Ben Solo is a goddamned piece of shit. And his father is dead.

He slowly sits up, realizing in slow waves where he is, what time of day it is, and what exactly is going on. He hasn’t slept in…god, he has no idea when he slept last. Before Han…before his dad…

He scrubs his hands down his face, swings his legs around the couch so that he’s completely sitting up. He inhales, and the first thing he notices is a sweet scent interwoven all around him. He recognizes that smell; it’s some body spray that Rey has taken to wearing over the past six months. It’s stuck to his clothes for some reason.

Rey.

And suddenly Ben is as wide awake as he can be, looking around the dark expanse of his living room and kitchen. Hadn’t Rey been here? She had, he recalls. She’d put on music and made him dance and it had been fairly silly of her but…she’d made him smile. His chest _aches_ at that.

“Rey?” he calls out into the quiet of his apartment, wondering if perhaps she’s in the bathroom or—

The hallway light turns on, but it is Poe who comes into view.

“Hey there, buddy,” his roommate says. His tone is too casual for Ben’s liking. “How are you feeling? I saw you got in a nap—”

“Where’s Rey?”

Poe sighs, shoulders slumping just a little in resignation. “She left.”

Ben feels a sharp pinprick of disappointment before smothering it away. Rey usually never leaves without saying goodbye, although she might have been trying not to wake him up—

Poe interrupts his reverie. “When I got home, she was lying next to you on the couch. It looked like the two of you were napping together. Then you accidentally knocked her off the couch in your sleep—something that would be _very_ funny if this was _literally_ any other situation—and so obviously she woke up. And I…I might have said something. About the giant fucking elephant in the room.”

Ben opens his mouth to demand that Poe tell him what the fuck he’d told Rey, but the expression on his roommate’s face gives him pause.

And Ben… Ben doesn’t really know what to say.

Poe nods, as if he can read Ben’s thoughts. He puts his hands on his hips and sighs again. “Ben, that girl is crazy about you.”

Ben slumps back against the couch, defeated. He feels as if he’s lost a very important battle he hadn’t realized he’d been fighting. Well, no, that wasn’t quite the truth. He’d know he’d been in a battle, he’d just been ignoring it. He’s been pointedly ignoring Rey’s feelings and… 

“I know,” he finally admits. “I fucking know.”

The look Poe gives him is filled with unabashed sympathy. “I told her it would never happen.”

Ben swallows thickly, nods slowly in agreement.

“I told her that she needed to let it go because I didn’t want to see her get hurt.”

Ben leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees, runs his right hand through his hair.

Silence descends between the two men. The cold fingers of self-loathing creep up Ben’s spine and burrow deep within his heart, and this time it’s not because he’s the worst excuse for a son that any father could ever ask for, but it’s because on top of that he’s a horrible, selfish friend.

He’s let Rey down.

Finally Poe breaks the quiet, never one to be silent for too long. “Are you going to… Listen, I’m not trying to tell you what to do here, I want you to know that. But, are you going to put some space between the two of you?” He asks the question gently, as if knowing the fragility of the situation.

Ben stares long and hard at the carpet under his feet. He’s let Rey down and he’s about to do it some more.

“I can’t.” The admission is a harsh whisper that comes croaking out from the back of his still dry throat. The self-loathing crawls from his heart up into his mind, and it is all Ben Solo can do to not make a noose so that he can hang up himself and all of his troubles.

He needs Rey. And he shouldn’t because she’s still just a kid, she’s still a fucking kid and he shouldn’t drag her down with him he really, really fucking shouldn’t. But Rey is his best friend. His only anything. And he can’t imagine getting through the rest of the year without her in his life.

Besides, he’ll be gone for months come January. For now, for now he can keep Rey for a bit longer.

He finally stands, knees feeling weak and wobbly before he steadies his balance, and makes to pass Poe and head to his own bedroom. He is, simply put, exhausted.  


Poe, to his credit, looks at him without judgement. “Do you need me to get you anything? Pretty sure I have an Ambien if you—”

Ben waves him off, shaking his head. “No, thanks. I—” His hand falls onto his doorknob and he sends his roommate a brief grimace from over his shoulder, unable to muster up the willpower for a proper smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Poe nods, still watching him closely as Ben slips through the doorway and closes the door behind him.

Ben’s room is dark and his bed inviting. He steps toward it, and he should change into something more comfortable, something that hadn’t already been dirty when he’d slung it on the day before. But he doesn’t. He collapses into bed and doesn’t fall asleep so much as allow his brain to shut off.

His clothes still smell like Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short. Painful chapter is painful. Author is sad for all parties involved.
> 
> I hope this scene met everyone’s expectations! Only took me, what, six months to deliver after I originally (and accidentally) teased it after chapter 31? Also, next year will probably be two parts at least so…
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading and continuing to show this little universe some love. Y’all are the best forreal.
> 
> I have [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_).
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	10. 2007, part one

Ben, Hux, and Phasma have been waiting to meet with Snoke for over two hours.

They waited nearly three hours to meet with him the day before, so today Ben is biding the time by fucking around on his laptop. Hux is reading a Tom Clancy novel.  
  
Ben sighs, glances at the clock. Nearly two and a half hours have passed now. Phasma is stretched out on the couch across from himself and Hux, pointedly napping.  
  
Phasma manages to do everything pointedly.

Ben looks back down at his computer, feels his hands curl into fists. He’s beginning to lose his goddamn patience. He didn’t sign up for this job just to sit around in Snoke’s office until the old fucker decides to see Ben and his coworkers. And he knows Hux and Phasma didn’t sign up for this either.

And yet, here they all are. Further proof that at the end of the day Snoke is still the one in control. Snoke is still the winner.

It makes Ben’s blood boil. Not for the first time he daydreams about just…standing up and walking out and never coming back to this place. For the past couple of years he’s always managed to rationalize his work to himself. It’s not moral or right or _legal_ , but it’s always been able to give him a sense of purpose. But it’s become more and more difficult to justify staying as of late.

_Snoke_ is becoming more and more difficult.

Hux shifts slightly in his seat beside Ben. The redhead must take a gander at the clock himself because a moment later he slams his book shut and huffs out, “Oh for Christ’s sake.”

Ben doesn’t particularly _like_ Hux (and never really has if he’s being honest with himself), but in that moment he can greatly commiserate.

He briefly debates closing his laptop, leaning his head back, and going the route of Phasma by napping. Instead he shakes his head a little in order to wake himself up, then types in a website he personally considers the drudge of the internet.

Facebook.

Maybe he’s old but Ben just doesn’t really get the appeal. He blinks down at the screen as the webpage loads. Hmm, Phasma has poked him again. He does not poke back.

Facebook has changed quite a bit since Rey forced him to create a profile last year. Ben logs in so infrequently that the layout of the site looks different every single time. He remembers how Rey had complained for a solid week when the guy in the top left corner of the header was removed, and how happy people were when the “is” was taken off the status update. Now there’s a timeline where people can update their friends on whatever they’re up to in any given moment. Ben finds it distasteful.

Except when it comes to Rey.

He only has to scroll for twenty seconds before her face pops into his line of sight. She went to the lake with her friends yesterday. She’d invited him along, insisting that he needs to get outside for once in his life (funny, since he suffered throughout all of Warped for her), but he’s been stuck here in Snoke’s office most of the week.

And now he’s getting an eyeful of how much fun he missed out on. 

She’s soaking wet in most of the photos and Ben stifles a laugh at the ridiculous faces she’s making in the majority of them. Typical Rey; she’s always disliked being in front of a camera. There is one picture, however, that makes him pause.

It’s of Rey standing in front of her caretaker’s car, clearly unaware that one of her friends is taking the photo, with the sunset framing her head like a halo. Her hair is halfway dry, wavy and healthy looking, and she’s got a cover up over her bathing suit. She’s smiling softly at something that the picture doesn’t capture; there are fresh freckles on the tanned skin of her nose and cheeks.

Rey is beautiful.

Ben is completely and utterly disarmed by it.

“She’s cute.”

Everything inside of Ben seems to stop working. There’s a beat of charged, tense silence before he slowly turns his head to look at Hux.

The redhead is unaware of his colleague’s murderous glare at first. His eyes are pinned to the laptop screen, taking in the photo of Rey with clear interest. Both men are slightly surprised when Ben vehemently slams the computer closed, removing his Rey from Hux’s gaze.

The redhead leans back a bit, giving Ben some much-needed space. The corner of his mouth curls in both distaste and amusement. “Relax, Solo. I was simply making an observation.”

Ben answers him by working his jaw and exhaling loudly.

At this Hux rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Since when do you give a shit about women’s feelings anyway? That one have a beer flavored pussy or—”

Usually Hux’s sense of self-preservation is stronger than this. But Ben never actually talks about Rey to him. He couldn’t bear for someone like Hux to even know about the existence of someone like Rey.

“Armitage, you ugly piece of shit.” The redhead snaps his mouth shut at the use of his first name. His eyes widen as he quickly realizes that he’s fucked up. “If you keep talking about her,” Ben continues, “I will disembowel you and play jump rope with your intestines.”

The threat would be comedic, perhaps, if Ben hadn’t delivered it in such a low and serious voice, fists clenched so hard his knuckles have turned white.

Hux glares at him, expression volatile, before pressing himself into the other end of the couch. He picks back up his book and flips it open to a random page, face turning red in anger.

For a long time the only noise in the room is Phasma’s slow breathing from where she’s still sleeping on her couch.

When his anger cools, when his vision isn’t still slightly blurry with his heightened emotions, Ben’s thoughts drift back to Rey. Rey, with her pleased smile and joyful eyes. 

Her skin had looked soft.

The three of them wait another forty minutes before Snoke finally calls them into his office. Ben thinks about Rey the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnnnnnnd we’re finally at the point where Ben begins to view Rey differently. The next chapter is wild. There’s a good reason why 2007 has been split into two parts.
> 
> I hope everyone had a lovely time over the holidays! I apologize that it’s been so long since I’ve visited this story, but I hope the significance of this chapter makes the wait worth it. 
> 
> Thank y’all so much for continuing to read and get excited over this story. My readers are simply the best ever and that is that on that <3
> 
> I have [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_) and a [dying tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/). If you liked let me know?


	11. 2007, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would highly suggest going back and reading [“2007, part seven”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13319496/chapters/33040872) from the main story, as this snippet takes place literally right after that chapter ends.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES:** Self-harm and ideations of suicide. Please take care of yourselves my friends.

_“Please, Ben. Please open the door and talk to me.” Her voice goes quiet, pleading. “Please. I feel it too.”_

It is a miracle that Ben stays silent.

There’s—there’s _too much_ going on in his head right now. He can’t quite get a grip on Rey’s muffled words that are carrying through his bedroom door. The lock seems like such a small obstacle between them. He could get up from the edge of his bed and turn said lock and there she would be. Cheeks tear-stained ( _because of him_ ) but still beautiful.

It would be too easy.

Ben’s breathing shudders. He can hear Poe speaking to Rey now.

His hands are shaking. He—he can’t quite—

Rey’s skin had looked so soft. He’d been tickling her and she’d fallen to the floor and her shirt had ridden up and her back—

He’d been able to see her black bra, stretched tight across her rib cage. He’d wanted to reach out touch her skin, trail his knuckles down her spine. Rey’s breath would have hitched ( _because of him_ ) and his hands would’ve finally, finally been on her.

It would have been too easy.

Ben can hear Rey’s footsteps echoing throughout the otherwise deadly silence of the apartment. She’s rummaging around, gathering her things, and maybe maybe _maybe_ it’s just his own imagination but Ben can swear he hears a sniffle ( _because of him_ ).

Rey had stood up before he’d been able to reach out and touch her, gotten to her feet and turned around, and that’s when Ben realizes he’s already stood up himself. Has already stood up and is towering over her, so close all he’d have to do is bend down—

Rey splays her hand across his chest and Ben swears his heart has never beat faster than it has in this moment. Her eyes flutter shut and she’s so willing and he’s so close, Ben is so close all he’d have to do is bend down—

It would have been too easy.

The apartment door slams and Ben knows that Rey has gone.

Poe knocks on the door hesitantly. “Uh—”

Ben wretches the door open before his roommate can finish whatever it is he was going to say.

Wretches the door open and stumbles past Poe on unsteady feet, lurching back and forth between the walls of the hallway until he’s inside the bathroom.

He’s going to throw up, maybe.

Poe is right behind him, hand on his shoulder to steady him and Ben has no idea, really, what on earth his roommate is trying to say because—

Ben had almost kissed Rey.

And not because he’d gotten caught up in the moment, and not because he thinks she’s so beautiful, thinks she’s so lovely.

It’s because Ben had wanted to. Because he loves her.

This fact hits him like a freight train and he’s sick, sick with the notion that he _loves_ —

But then why is he so surprised? Hasn’t he actively poisoned everything in his life that’s ever been good?

He’ll taint her.

He should take himself out before he does so.

Ben has a razer, he could—he could—

Or maybe with a gun, but the barrel upside down in his mouth—

But then there’s Poe’s hand still gripping his shoulder and some of the storm quells a little underneath his friend’s hand.

There’s still that undealt with energy however, boiling underneath every inch of skin and before he can think before he can really… Ben just snaps his fist forward into the mirror. It shatters of course and he’s ripped his hand up and there’s blood on the white tile of the floor but…

He’s relieved he can’t see his reflection anymore.

As if a cloud has parted, he comes to.

Poe is not quite crying but his voice is breaking. He’s got a towel in one hand and Ben’s bloody knuckles in the other. “It’s going to be okay, Ben. It’s going to be okay.”

He says it over and over, face paler than Ben’s and eyes wide with the intensity of the situation. The words become a mantra that Ben clings to as he slumps down on the toilet seat, the only thing keeping him remotely afloat in an ocean full of self-sabotaging thoughts.

Eventually Poe slips a “there’s nothing wrong with you” into the rest of his words, and somehow this breaks Ben a little more.

But there is something wrong with him. There always has been and always will be. He’ll never be good enough for anyone, least of all Rey.

He’ll never be—

As if in an act of self-preservation his mind quiets with its own mental exhaustion. Ben is just too tired to think about how much he despises himself anymore.

He nods off with his head dropping against the edge of the sink, bleeding hand still wrapped up in Poe’s towel. Sentences clamor about inside his head as his vision blackens with unconsciousness.

_It’s going to be okay._

_There’s nothing wrong with you._

_Please, Ben._

_I feel it too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say. Writing this gave me the ouchies.
> 
> I have [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_) and a [dying tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/).
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	12. 2008, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of the timeline, this snippet takes place between ["2008, part four"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13319496/chapters/33400560#workskin) and ["2008, part five"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13319496/chapters/33522546#workskin).

It’s the only day of the week that Ben Solo has actually wanted to wake up for.

It’s a Saturday toward the end of April, and he’s spending it with Rey.

He pulls into the parking lot of their local Kroger, hands stable has he puts his Camaro in park. He feels more content now then he’s felt all week; Rey climbing out of the passenger’s side and shooting him a bright smile as she closes the door grounds him, makes his chest feel light.

She’s moving away from the car and into the store in a blink, so of course Ben does what is always most natural to him.

He follows her.

**

“We are not getting boxed macaroni and cheese. That stuff is disgusting.”

Rey looks up at him and actually _pouts_ , her pretty lower lip jutting out just a little further than the top one. “But it’s Spongebob shaped.”

Ben shakes his head and starts to scoot the cart forward. “The cheese is powdered.”

“So?” she snaps back, completely indignant. “Why do you think they have you add so much butter? It makes it creamy, powdered cheese or not.”

“I’m not putting that into my body.”

Smirking, she tosses it into the cart anyway.

Ben lets her.

**

They’re in the dairy aisle and Rey is trotting up to the refrigerators with the milk selection, hovering over the gallons of two-percent and trying to find the one with the longest expiration date.

He idles behind her waiting, watching as she opens the door and grabs one. She turns, catches him looking at her and smiles, pleased and lovely.

For a moment Ben lets himself entertain a fantasy.

The fantasy is that shopping with Rey, arguing over macaroni and cheese and which soda to buy and listening to her pitch an escape plan for the live lobsters, is his everyday reality. That he’ll get to wake up every morning knowing he gets to spend it with the person he cherishes most in this universe. That he’ll get to fall asleep every night knowing she’s tucked safe somewhere nearby. That Rey is his to keep.

The fantasy breaks as she places the milk in their cart. Ben keeps his face composed, manages to return her smile.

In reality, Rey turns away, tucking her hair behind her ears and checking to see what’s next on the grocery list Ben had hastily written out this morning. Her tongue sticks out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates.

In his fantasy, Ben takes the grocery list from her hand before bending down and kissing her. Because he wants to. Because he can.

In reality, he stands still and keeps stoic as Rey begins walking toward the bakery.

In his fantasy, Ben nips at her neck and she giggles, smacking at his chest halfheartedly. He pulls away but stays close, hand lingering on her lower back.

In reality, he begins walking behind Rey at a slow pace, following. 

He supposes he will take reality over fantasy, if it means he gets to have Rey in his life at all.

**  
His uncle calls his cellphone while they’re walking out to the car. Ben scoffs at the screen before pointedly slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Rey casts him curious glances as they put the bags into the trunk of the Camaro. She finally breaks. “Who called?”

Ben works his jaw for a second before answering. “Luke.”

Rey presses her lips together and nods slowly, watching him like a hawk. Ben slams the trunk closed after they load the last few bags, feeling Rey’s eyes on him like a burning weight.

But he just doesn’t want to talk about Luke, or the art show, or how everything that comes into his head and out of his hand and onto a canvas is _shit_.

Everything he creates always turns into something dark and mottled, like he’s snapped open a black pen and is letting it spray and bleed ink onto the start of every project. He can’t tell Rey about that, about how he has no idea what he’s doing anymore. He could never burden her with the messes he always seems to find himself drowning in.

If anything, she would be better off without him.

Ben puts the cart back, and Rey is already sitting in her seat when he climbs into the driver’s side of the Camaro. She turns to him when he starts the engine, mouth quirked. Then she’s changing the CD’s in a flash.

Pearl Jam begins to play. A long time ago she must’ve noticed that he’ll put on Ten when he’s upset. Rey starts bobbing her head along to the opening of ‘Once’, lowering her vocals in an attempt to match Veddor when his singing kicks in. As if she just wants to listen to it for herself, and not because she knows it’ll make him feel better.

In reality, Ben drives out of the parking lot and tells Rey, “Thank you, kid.”

In his fantasy, Ben drives out of the parking lot and tells Rey, “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where in the midst of the storm, folks. Next chapter will be very small but...a lot.
> 
> I know it's been awhile, but please know I love everyone's continued support and enthusiasm for this fic. I know this chapter hurteth, but I hope you all enjoyed nonetheless <3
> 
> I have [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_) and [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/).
> 
> If you liked let me know?


	13. 2008, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would recommend brushing up on ["2008, part seven"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13319496/chapters/33736407), as we'll be getting a section of that chapter from Ben's POV this installment.

Rey Kanata is the most beautiful person Ben Solo has ever seen. 

She is standing close, he could—he could reach out and _touch_ her. But her fists are clenched and her eyes are red and she’s crying. Crying because of him, because of his choices, because of who he fucking is—

She’s said her piece and he should let her leave. He should let her go. He shouldn’t say anything else.

He opens his mouth anyway.

“Rey, I-I just want you to know that I—I—”

How can he even begin to articulate how long he has loved her?

_You smiled at me the first day I met you and I remember thinking how silly you looked with your front teeth missing. You used to give me your goldfish, humbly sharing whatever you had with me. You sat in my room and drew a tree once, remember? Then you covered that framed picture of all the rotten parts of my life with it. You let me share my art, my favorite music and books and movies, with you and made me feel like my thoughts mattered. You defended me, protected me, soothed me in a hospital with soft words and cool hands. I’ve always loved you, it just shifted into something deeper and more precious six months ago. But you’ve always felt like mine, Rey. And I’ve always felt like yours._

She is still standing there, waiting. Looking like she wants to break apart.

_I wish I was something small, like a ring, or a locket that sits near your heart. Something you’d wake up everyday and keep close to you, so that I would never miss a single moment of your joy, so I could never cause you pain again._

Ben…

Ben can’t tell her any of this.

It’s not fair.

Rey deserves

a beautiful life

even if he’s

not in it.

So he says another thing that sits heavily in his chest. A summary of all the things he cannot say.

“I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried while writing this lol.
> 
> Come cry with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_) and [tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/)


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